


The Edict

by Bunnyhops



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnyhops/pseuds/Bunnyhops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione simply gaped as the magic washed over her skin and her connections with the Weasley family were irrevocably broken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Edict

DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING

“Miss Granger, this is an injunction to prevent you from being within three hundred meters of any Weasley until the end of time.” Hermione simply gaped as the magic washed over her skin and her connections with the Weasley family were irrevocably broken.

These connections had been formed through years of laughter, warmth, acceptance, and strife. Mrs. Weasley had accepted Hermione as another daughter; treated her as one of the family and even sided with her when Ron had overstepped his bounds as a potential suitor. 

Ginny and even Charlie had supported, encouraged, and accepted Hermione as their kin. They were there for her when her parents died, when her Kneazle died, when Harry died…

The twins… Hermione’s eyes darted to Fred and George. She could see their jaws twitch with anger. Seething, they tried to fight the Immobilus, but they couldn’t. Tears sprang into her eyes and George’s features softened. He hated seeing her cry.

During every big event in Hermione’s life, since her inception into the magical world, the Weasley’s had been there in one form or another. And now, now, Hermione would no longer be allowed to be in contact with them. 

She looked around plaintively. She didn’t know what to do. She watched as the magic flowed over her and the Weasley’s in her presence faded from her sight. The decree would prevent her from even seeing them, from hearing them, from remembering them. 

Hermione choked back a sob. She felt like she was alone in the world… again; she felt bereft.

The war had ended, yes, and the Order had won; in name only. Not much had changed, with the exception of the wizarding communities; they didn’t live in fear for their lives any longer, and, of course, the imprisonment of one Dolores Umbridge. One thing every class, pureblood and Muggle-born alike, agreed upon - no one was a fan of the prudish spinster and her pink paraphernalia. 

What war torn wizarding England did fear was the systematic loss of freedoms slowly implemented by the aristocracy; who to marry, who to associate with, where to work. The list went on and on. 

Hermione was different than most Muggleborns in that she had proven her intelligence and value during her Hogwarts years and the war. Her offensive and defensive strategies were unmatched, as well as her deftly wielded magic and her cache of successfully cast spells all made her an asset. Not to mention that she had grown into a beautiful witch, who seemed unaware of her beauty, which had wizards panting after her mostly to no avail. Wizards were also drawn to her magical prowess, status and quick wit; the Malfoys were no exception. However, they did have a rabbit in their hat, so to speak. 

Hermione wasn’t relegated to stations just better than that of the House Elf. She was given a Ministry position conducting research and exploring the use of ancient magical healing methods. It was perfect for her and she was successful at it.  
OoO

Once the magical violation had completed its course, she turned to the man standing in front of her.

“Why this?” she asked, her eyes wide and begging.

“They are blood traitors, Miss Granger. Their continued involvement in your life would have proved a detriment to our future …relations,” Lucius practically purred in her direction as well as managing to sneer in reference to the Weasley’s. It was an odd combination, but Lucius pulled it off quite well.

Momentarily forgetting her heartbreak, Hermione furrowed her brows. “Relations?”

Draco then smiled and it looked almost predatory. “Yes, Granger, relations. You belong to us now.”

Hermione shook her head and clicked her jaw shut. “Belong?” One word questions were the only things she could think of at the moment. An errant thought came to mind that these men were infuriating. Could they be any vaguer?

Lucius hmmmm’d his assent and stepped forward. It prompted her to retreat, before she remembered her House origins. She took a quick, fortifying breath, lifted her head, and squared her shoulders. “I don’t belong to any one, Mr. Malfoy,” she asserted.

Draco, sensing her ire close at hand, decided on a different tack. “Have coffee with us, Granger. Let us explain.” His long fingered hands were held up in minor surrender making her soften her presentation. Her eyes shifted to the elder Malfoy. 

Lucius nodded. “In Muggle London, if you prefer,” he suggested.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow at that and even Draco had to school his surprised features. 

The memory of the famed redheads were now fading in memory, and Hermione gritted her teeth in an effort to pull up a picture of one of them. She was unable to do so; only able to focus on the regal blonds at her front. “I know the perfect place,” she said, holding out her hands for side-along.

Lucius made to object and suggest another means of travel, but Hermione would hear none of it. 

She impatiently shook her hands once, nonverbally telling them to take hold or be left behind. Draco took her hand and squeezed tightly. He trusted her power, but his father was another story altogether.

Hermione and Draco waited silently for Lucius to make a decision. The wizard swallowed; he didn’t look forward to being Splinched and wondered if he could focus enough to obtain the knowledge of this ‘perfect place’ from her mind, so that he may aide in their group Apparition. He didn’t have a choice, but to concede; they needed her.

Slowly, he took her hand as well and immediately felt the nauseating swirl of someone else’s side-along.

To Lucius’ relief, they landed in a corner alley in Surrey just outside the wizarding part. He recognized it on sight. They all took a moment to regain their balance and waited for the dizziness to subside before moving forward. It took Hermione a few seconds longer to meticulously pull any lint from her person, giving the Malfoys the opportunity to look at her.

“It’s just this way,” Hermione said quietly suddenly uncomfortable. 

Lucius stopped her by pulling her back by her arm. It wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t gentle either. 

Hermione opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, but he spoke before she could. 

“I’ve known only a handful of witches who could side-along two additional magical beings. Your focus is extraordinary.”

His statement was, of course, on the misogynistic side, but it was clearly a compliment.

Hermione cleared her throat. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, but no amount of flattery will detract me from our mission here. You have an explanation to convey.” She still couldn’t conjure a picture of her beloved Weasley’s and she’d nearly forgotten what she was doing here with Lucius and Draco Malfoy. They smelled so …masculine. Hermione almost lost herself in their presence, but regained composure and frowned.

Lucius read her expression and answered her unasked question. “It’s the magic, Miss Granger.”

Oh yes. The magic. A decree by some ancient mandate in Pureblood edict; that said she could no longer associate with …them. But why? She was a Muggleborn. Hell, she was The Muggleborn.

She nodded, but it was neither confident nor certain. Possible explanations raced through her mind hindering her ability to move forward.

“Granger?” It was Draco and he was just ahead of her holding out his hand. It was a comfortable gesture, one that perplexed her a bit. And instead of questioning the way he, they, so willingly wanted to explain, she felt her hand slip into his. She was rewarded with a contented smile that genuinely lit up his face. She smiled in return and let him thread his fingers through hers, giving them both a moment of pause. In that single moment, her head cleared, her soul energized, and she no longer felt …off; as had been her regular state for the last seven months.

Lucius cleared his throat, reminding Draco they had a coffee shop to patronize, a speech to give, and a witch to convince. 

The younger nodded and tugged. 

Hermione also snapped out of the trance she was in and pushed past them to lead the way; Draco still connected her.

The Mocha Room was across the busy intersection, where Draco hesitated in a moment of fear. Hermione tugged him along with an encouraging smile, while she simultaneously shepherded the elder Malfoy from his side. They made it across safely to the establishment. Lucius held open the door for Hermione and Draco guided her in with his hand warming the small of her back. She was a bit flattered and a lot surprised, though she shouldn’t have been; she’d seen enough of pureblood etiquette at work to know that they were gentlemen; just not normally to her.

Having ordered and received their drinks in quite a timely manner; what with Hermione’s impatient presentation and Lucius’ natural authority. They left the counter with a healthy amount of groans of envy behind them from the other patrons for having had to wait, the trio sat at a table in the corner. Draco cast a silent Muffliato and the awkward silence commenced.

After a few sips of her highly caloric, but incredibly comforting caramel macchiato, Hermione cleared her throat and lifted her eyes. “The magical edict.”

Draco nodded, but didn’t respond. He didn’t want to. He’d seen the terror in Weasley’s eyes too often when Granger was offended by something he did. Draco was almost certain that the reason Weasley had gone through the remaining two months of school fourth year not able to speak a coherent word was because Granger had cast a rather strong Babbling Hex on him and kept reapplying it every so often.

“Where shall we start then?” Lucius asked. His fingers were slowly spinning the cup, giving away his anxiety.

Normally, she wanted to hear how the point of a conversation came to be; the background information first. However, right at this moment, she wanted them to get to the point. 

“bottom line,” she snapped. Her anger was genuine, but it was also a defense mechanism. She’d feel slightly guilty if they were offended by her rude response. She needn’t have worried, neither Malfoy seemed fazed by her tart response.

Lucius leveled his serious gaze at her and said, “You’re not Muggle-born and we are betrothed.”

Hermione couldn’t seem to catch her breath nor could she tear her eyes from him. The moment was interrupted when the lid on her cup popped off and the hot chocolaty liquid erupted from the top and came pouring out on the table. 

True to form, the Malfoy’s didn’t panic. Draco simply cast another silent spell; this time cleaning up the mess, while Lucius acquired another coffee for her.

They were back to being seated and quiet until Hermione broke the hush. “I’m going to need some more details, please.”

Once again, Hermione couldn’t catch her breath. Lucius had smiled at her dry humor and it was the single most handsome thing she’d ever seen in her life. Her eyes darted around his chiseled features and paused every so often on his perfectly sculpted eyebrows, the line of his jaw, the pink of his full lips and his nearly silver eyes. She ended her perusal there, not realizing that she was gazing dreamily into Lucius Malfoy’s loveliness.

When she realized that she was staring, she immediately diverted her eyes and felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. 

Draco snorted into his cup at the display and Lucius quelled the urge to tease her. Their history was far too rocky for him to assume a casual presentation with her just yet.

Awkwardly tapping her fingers for a moment, she inhaled once more and said, “So… You are under the impression that I’m not Muggle born and that we are engaged?”

“We know this to be true, Miss Granger; and just so we’re clear, by ‘we’, I mean, you are betrothed to both Draco and myself.”

The sensation of her heart stopping then sputtering to a start again captured her expression for a brief moment. Schooling her features, she responded. “I see.”

Draco then chuckled with humor, which only he seemed to recognize. “No, Granger, I don’t think you do.”

Normally, Hermione would have denied the accusation, denied the implication, and not allowed her ‘opponent’ a word in edgewise, by loudly stating the logical reasons of why what they said was incorrect. Or, she would just Hex them. However, not only was she shocked speechless, she was infinitely curious. These were not wizards who lied or were unintelligent. These wizards were smart, and something told her they did their homework when it came to public announcements. A brief flash of anxiety stunted her thought process when she wondered if they were playing some sort of elaborate joke on her to publically degrade her, and the next moment then decided that was not their way. Even Draco, when they were in school; he was more of an in-your-face type of teasing humor rather than a sneaky public humiliation. That was more of Ron’s style.

Ron!

The name faded and she took another drink of her coffee, realizing that she may need something… stronger.

Lucius took her silence to mean that she was ready to listen, so he began the tale he’d been told so often by his father.

“My grand-pere, Castor Malfoy, was very close to Pavo Pucey.” Lucius paused to let the names sink in. Once recognition that Pavo was Adrian’s great grandfather was acknowledged, he continued.

“One night, they were in a mood to …better, or alter, the life of their families, and so found a dark spell and cast it. It was blood magic and required the focus of strong will and another willing participant. 

“Pavo wished for beauty and soul in each of his descendants for as long as the Pucey bloodline remained on this earth. Castor quickly agreed and let his blood to help his friend. When it came time for Castor to speak his desire; he wished for something a bit more complex.” This is where Lucius had to explain the background, in order for her to understand why she was here.

“My grandfather had visions, he was a Seer. This is not a widely known fact. I trust that you will keep that to yourself.”

Hermione looked affronted that he felt he needed to tell her and then resolute that she would, of course, keep his secret. Annoyed just the same at having her integrity questioned, she leaned into him, if only just to smell him, and whispered, “Of course, Mr. Malfoy, I’ll not share your proclivity towards crystal balls. I’m a witch of my word, sir.” Hermione offered a sweet smile, making Draco once again snort into his coffee and his father stretch his lips in mild disdain for her cheek, before he continued his tale.

“Castor saw the war and my eventual …ruination and dishonor of the Malfoy name.” Lucius said this quietly and with feeling. So much so that Hermione reached out her hand and grasped his, resting on the table. Lucius cleared his throat and silently reveled at how warm and soft her hand was on his. “He also knew that it was dangerous for Pucey’s line to birth a female child. And so, he made the other wizard promise to cart her to safety upon her entry into this world. Castor then vowed that his bloodline renew the Malfoy name by uniting these two families; stating that this one female child would marry into the Malfoy family, bringing with her integrity, dignity and respect. Pavo agreed, and shed his blood in a Wizard’s Oath.”

Hermione interrupted at that point. “One night they were in a mood? It sounds like they came stumbling into the foyer in a state of alcoholic bliss!”

When she received no objection, her eyes widened. “They were pissed?!!!”  
Lucius had a sour expression – he was not particularly proud of that fact, and Draco was fighting a smile.

After she got over that small, but relevant fact, she asked. “You think I’m the female child?”

They both nodded. “That would make me-“

“Pucey’s sister,” Draco finished for her. It was the way he was looking at her, the way his blue gray eyes pierced hers that made her stomach flip flop. He was handsome, and intense and not lying. Her brain started whirling pictures of Adrian Pucey through her mind. It was like Draco was willing them to the forefront, so she could see the similarities.

They had the same hair color, the same hazel eyes. She was smaller in stature and feminine, but she could see resemblances. She hadn’t seen him in a couple years, so it was a complete surprise when the man in question strolled up to the table wearing an easy smile. He was still ridiculously good looking.

Hermione looked at him and felt white hot rage flash through her body. It made her magic crackle around her, and both the Malfoy’s and her brother increased their distance to her.

“You knew!” she hissed.

Adrian felt terrible and always had longed to get to know her, but circumstances and a promise to his father disallowed him from showing her any type of brotherly affection. 

“I did.”

Hermione scrunched her face in a confused frown. “How did you even know we were here?”

Adrian smiled and splayed his hands. “Ah, the Fates conspire for us. I was conducting business just down the street and saw you three walk in. I heard about the edict and knew they were here to tell you everything.”  
Tears burned her eyes and she couldn’t seem to form a sentence, so she uttered the only thing that came to mind to prove that they were not siblings. “You are beautiful.”  
The wizards were speechless until Draco regained his composure and began to laugh. It was an honest laugh stemming from his belly and erupting in a rich sound that warmed Hermione’s soul – that was until she realized he was laughing at her.  
“You are three seconds away from the worst Bat Bogey Hex you’ve ever had the misfortune of witnessing, much less being a victim to. Why are you laughing?”

Her threat effectively silenced the younger Malfoy, prompting him to answer her question. “You’re beautiful.”

The protest died on her tongue as she viewed the expressions on three wizards sitting at her table. “I- What?”

“Beautiful. Positively stunning.” The comment came from Adrian. 

Hermione’s mind was spinning. She didn’t know what to do or what to say. Lucius looked confused, which confused her. “Mr. Malfoy?”

“Have you had no wizards seek to court you? Or, at the very least, woo you with tales of your lovely curls that a man can run his fingers through, or how soft your skin looks, making a man long to touch you? Your curves provoke even the stoutest of will to want to caress the slopes of your waist.” Lucius stopped abruptly at her upturned eyebrow and his son’s smirk. 

He cleared his throat. “Forgive me for …waxing poetic about your presentation, Miss…”

“Pucey,” Adrian supplied.

“Granger,” Hermione corrected.

“Right,” Lucius added refusing to cede to either.

By this time, Hermione was blushing furiously, but was secretly flattered by Lucius’ gilded tongue, and Adrian’s willingness to adopt her immediately. Though, she speculated, he’d lived his life with the idea of her as his sister. 

Adrian interrupted them. “Getting back to the point; have you experienced any anomalies occurring with your magic?” he asked Hermione.

She thought for a moment. She had indeed experienced magical mishaps: blowing up her toaster oven, turning her Draught of Peace into purple sludge instead of a golden liquid, causing her hair to frizz instead of dry in shiny waves. “Yes,” she responded after a time.

“As have we. It’s the Oath. We must wed in order to carry out the vow,” Draco informed her.

“How long do we have? What are the consequences – loss of magic?” She didn’t think the latter was too bad. Yes, she would miss her magic, but she could live as a Muggle; maybe even secure a position as a Muggle liaison to the magical communities, which would keep her in touch with Adrian, but what of the Malfoys? They would surely perish without their magic. 

Her line of logic was cut off when Adrian answered. “Death.”

Oh.

“To answer your first question, Hermione, we have approximately one month before things begin to get really hinky,” Draco answered.

Made sense. “I turn 21 in a month.”

Before Hermione turned herself over to this new life, she wanted proof. She could adapt easily, but she needed to know for certain; and the fact that Adrian and she resembled each other was not enough. “What evidence do you have to support this claim?”

Lucius smiled, but it was Adrian who seemed put out. “You mean besides me?”

Hermione huffed. “Yes, aside from you.”

Lucius pulled out an old and yellowed parchment, reinforced the Stasis Charm, and floated it to Hermione. Adrian moved around the table to read it over her shoulder.

Draco reared back a bit at the view in front of him. With Adrian and Hermione so close, their resemblance went farther than just having similar features. They were the male/female versions of each other and shook his head at the lack of perception the Hogwarts student body had at not recognizing how much these two looked alike. He didn’t apply that lack of perception to himself.

Hermione felt strangely comfortable with such a casual display by Adrian. She felt her magic lean towards him and when he glanced sideways at her, she knew he felt the same. Their magic was the same; she needed no further proof.

“What’s next?” she asked.

Three Weeks Later

After wooing her not with jewelry, not with money, not with pretty bobbles most witches adored, Hermione was coaxed into moving in with the promise of giving her access to the Malfoy Manor library.

One late night, after an afternoon of lounging in the library, Hermione stepped out of the luxurious shower and was casting a drying charm on her hair. She dropped the towel from around her body and braided her hair down her back to prevent tangles during the night and to keep it out of her face.

The lightning flashed in her window followed by a loud boom of thunder. She loved thunder storms and hurried to dress in a thin camisole top and soft cotton pajama pants that tied just above her hips. 

Skipping quietly down the stairs, jogging through the hallway and briskly walking to the sliding glass doors off one of the drawing rooms, she stepped out onto the large patio where they dined when the weather permitted. 

The wind blew tendrils of her hair around and whipped at her pajama pants. The flower gardens were straight ahead and Hermione decided to walk to the center and sit on the bench there surrounded by the fragrances of the flowers, winds, and fresh grass. It was earthy and clean and intoxicating. The Thunder rumbled around her again making her smile.

At the bench, she stopped and blinked a few times to make sure that what she was seeing was real: faeries. They were actual faeries in the gardens. It was rare that they were caught unawares and Hermione felt of a thrill at being lucky enough to see so many of them.

She moved forward, but was caught suddenly by large hands around her upper arms. “Don’t,” he hissed, “They’re mean creatures.”

Hermione stilled and frowned. “Mean? They’re faeries, Lucius,” she scoffed.

He sighed and loosened his grip slightly. “They spit and bite, and they’re saliva is venomous. It makes other magical beings very ill. They’re also thieving little buggers!” 

Hermione twisted her head to look at his face. A petulant child was what she witnessed sneering at the faeries. It made her giggle.

Her smile made him smile and his hands slid to her shoulders. They’d had no physical relations; small touches here, a few lengthy hugs there. Draco and Hermione had shared a kiss on one occasion, but that was it. Hermione wanted to spend their time talking, getting to know each other, visiting with her brother and getting used to life as a pureblood witch and not the Muggleborn she’d been raised as.

As they both stood under the stormy night sky, with the wind howling and the thunder rolling, he massaged the tense muscles of her shoulders and pressed his chest to her back. Soon the mood thickened and Lucius found himself lost in the soft contours of her backside, slowly, shallowly moving his hips back and forth. 

Hermione reveled in the feeling of him behind her.

Mirroring his movement, Hermione closed her eyes letting the heady sensations fill her. His hands slipped slowly inside of her camisole to glide over her collar bone and down to cup her breasts. He gently kneaded the fleshy mounds, making her moan softly and drop her head back against his chest. Lucius ran the pads of his fingers over her peaked nipples every so often then spread his fingers on the way back, capturing her nipples between his knuckles, and squeezing slightly.

“Do you pleasure yourself, Hermione?” His voice was deep and melodic.

“Yes,” she whispered, arching her back to press her bosom more fully into his hands.

“What do you think about when your fingers are slicked with your essence?”

Hermione’s hands were now slowly petting her stomach, inching lower to the waist band of her pajama bottoms. “Naked bodies… being embraced. Feeling his skin against mine. His mouth… kissing me… down there.” The last two words were spoken so softly that Lucius wasn’t sure he heard her correctly. 

“You want his mouth, my mouth, on your pussy, Hermione? Licking and sucking?”

His dirty words and increasingly aggressive manipulation of her breasts made her wetter than she’d ever been. “Yes,” she moaned and slipped her fingers underneath the waist band.

Lucius removed his hands from her chest and pulled her arms away. He untied the string and pushed her bottoms down while turning her around to face him. Petting her nether lips through her cotton knickers, he asked, “How do you picture me tasting you? Me kneeling at your feet, watching you, while I take my meal from you? Or would you prefer to lie on your back, legs over my shoulders while I fuck you with my tongue? Maybe you want to be bent over, so I can see your swollen lips peak out from behind and you can feel my nose near your arsehole?”

His fingers had sped up and now she was so close to coming that she felt like sobbing. “Knee- Kneeling,” she croaked.

Hermione sensed his presence disappear and when she opened her eyes to see, he was on his knees in front of her, looking up at her. Lucius had taken her knickers with him and pulled as she stepped out of them. Leaning in, he inhaled her scent and closed his eyes as if she were the sweetest thing he’d ever smelled.

Hermione was bare. Lucius caressed her hairless mons and traced her puffy lips, stopping between her legs at her warm moist entrance. Never breaking eye contact with her, he slowly slid his finger into her, feeling her clench at his entry. “So tight and wet, pet.” He was silently relieved that he didn’t feel any barriers. He’d never wanted a witch more than he wanted her at this moment. “Open for me,” he ordered.

Filled with expectation, entranced by his words and movements, and gushing with the sensation of him fingering her, Hermione stepped out, opening herself to him.

“Please…”

Pumping his finger in and out, he quirked the side of his mouth. “Please what, pet?”

“Your mouth, Lucius. I want you to lick me.”

Lucius’ thumb circled her clit, making her cry out. The sound was lost in the wind, but he heard it. “You’ll have to be more specific, Hermione. What do you want me to lick, exactly?”

Her mind was muddled preventing her from answering right away. She wanted to, but it just wouldn’t come. 

“Do you want me to lick this pretty little pussy of yours?”

“Yes!”

“Shall I suckle your clit nursing from you your release?”

“Yes!”

“Say it.”

“I – I want you to lick my pussy, Lucius. Make me come in your mouth. Please!”

“Mmmmm. “ The tip of his tongue firmly stroked her slit, up and around her clit then back down entering the space his fingers had vacated. He felt her squeeze the fat of his tongue and moaned, wrapping his lips around the sweet flesh.

Hermione could hear slurping noises and see the pink of Lucius’ tongue occasionally. His hands were gripping her hips, moving her where he wanted. She’d always heard that wizards didn’t like doing this, but this being her first experience with oral pleasure; Lucius Malfoy had definitely provided an alternate view of things. He looked like he loved doing this and she happily realized that she loved him doing it.

The orgasm crashed into her unexpectedly, provoking her to fist her hands in his hair to steady herself. He licked languidly and watched as her body seized. He loved how her left knee bent, her head dropped back and her hands gripped his long hair. It was breath taking. She tasted divine and he hoped that there would be many more nights of him eating the fruits of her sex.

When the stars started to fade from Hermione’s eyes and she felt her body relax, Lucius stood, twirled her around and bent her over the small, round table that had magically appeared. “Lucius, ahhhh.” She could say no more as Lucius’ inserted himself into her core, stretching her. She couldn’t catch her breath. She’d never felt so full; he felt very large and she liked the almost painful entry. 

“Sweet Merlin, witch. You are exquisite. So tight and warm.” Lucius pounded into her hard and fast, making her grunt and keen with pleasure. He pressed his hand in between her shoulder blades so that her chest was flat on the table. Hermione could feel his large hands pull open her bum. She worried for a moment that he would try to penetrate there, but the rapture following told her otherwise. His thumb only massaged the rosebud in rhythm to his thrusts. 

Panting and trying to fight the feeling of his impending climax, he hissed, “Touch yourself, Hermione. Come with me, pet.” Hermione only hesitated for a split second before her fingers caressed the beaded muscled and she felt her mind careening out of control. She vaguely heard his roar of completion, but she felt his movement slow and after a minute, he was shallowly pumping in and out of her.

Finally they stood still; him molded onto her back, with his arm around her stomach. Without waiting for another word, Lucius gathered Hermione up as he would his bride and Disapparated. 

She was still in his arms as he walked to a huge bathroom, still in his arms while he turned on the showers, and still in his arms as he stepped inside. They sat; Lucius on a bench under the water and Hermione on his lap, nuzzling and cuddling with the warm spray of steam surrounding them. Hungry kisses and tight embraces were on the menu for the night. Each relishing the companionship, the connection, of the other. 

Lucius suckled her breast and she once again felt the spark of heat in her body. Shifting on his lap, she straddled him, impaling herself on his erection. He was wide and long and curved to the left – it was a celestial feeling, being stretched and filled by him. This position allowed him to rock her on his lap and take her nipples between his teeth, gently biting and alternating soothing laps with his tongue. Their love-making was slower and more gradual than when they were outside; she knew that she would be forever pleased by this man and that was something she welcomed.

****  
Lucius turned down the bedding and climbed in after Hermione. He felt so relaxed and comforted by her presence; it surprised him. He decided not to question, only accept. Closing his eyes, he pulled her closer and went to sleep.

****

The sun was shining through the window at the far end of the room, and a large, warm hand was caressing her nude back. It felt different, so she turned slightly to confirm her suspicion; Draco. “Good morning, sleepy head.”

Hermione smiled and grabbed for her wand. Pointing it at her mouth, she cast a mild Scourgify and breath freshener. “Good morning.” She was naked and turned away from him. The sheet was crumpled around her hips and he was still slowly caressing her back. She felt awkward. Draco was nearly more intimidating than Lucius, just because they’d had so much history – had grown up together. She almost felt that she wanted Draco’s approval more than his fathers. 

Draco watched her, knowing her mind was spinning. He was fairly certain he understood why she wouldn’t turn to face him. He leaned down to place a soft kiss on her shoulder. “What’s the matter, love?” he asked kissing another piece of bare skin.

Hermione shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

Draco wanted her and he was tired of waiting. He knew they were compatible. They’d spent most of the weeks prior to this laughing and talking. Granted, the relationship was new, but they shared many opinions and their logic was very similar.

“Hermione?”

Her head turned so that he could see her profile. “Let me see you,” he whispered pulling on her shoulder and turning her on her back. She didn’t resist, but did avoid eye contact. Draco’s blue gray eyes darkened slightly when her breasts were revealed to him. They were perfect he thought; plump mounds surrounded by pale skin, with dusky pink nipples. He was mesmerized as he watched her nipples harden in front of his eyes. His warm hand palmed a breast brushing his thumb over the peaks.

Hermione watched his eyes scan her torso: her breasts, her flat stomach, and the sheet preventing him from seeing more. Her lips parted as his thumb skimmed her areola. She moaned quietly when Draco bent down and took her other nipple into his mouth, suckling gently, making her arch her back with pleasure. Under the sheet, her hips bucked slightly and her legs spread a little bit. 

Taking the cue, Draco’s other hand slid under the sheet, over her thigh, and up to her warm, moist center. He closed his eyes knowing that she was ready for him, wanting him. Letting go of her nipple, he raised his head and moved to kiss her. Their lips met in a hungry, but tranquil uniting. Their tongues twirling and stroking and dancing together as he shifted his body to rest in between her open legs. They moved together, slicking his erection with her essence, and rubbing her clit causing her spread her legs farther apart for the much needed friction. This was not a frenzied coupling, but it was urgent and needy. Not breaking the kiss, Draco moved his hand and took hold of his cock to position it at her entrance.

Hermione was nodding and holding his head while they kissed. Draco pushed in, making them both moan. Once fully seated, they shook with rapture at the intense feeling of being joined. 

Rocking in and out, they kept a slow but steady pace, kissing and petting and suckling and nipping. They murmured to each other words of love and encouragement, redemption and absolution, promises and plans for the future. 

Draco grunted when Hermione squeezed his buttocks, firmly pressing him against the spot where she needed him the most. “Draco, please…”

“Yes, love, me too,” he said and gave a hard, quick thrust in then another and another. Soon he was pistoning in and out of her, panting while she gave short soft mewling sounds, spurning him on. They cried out in unison as their climaxes hit. They’re bodies were coated with a thin sheen of perspiration and their hair was sticking to their foreheads with sweat.

****

At breakfast, Draco and Hermione walked downstairs hand in hand to a waiting Lucius. He was sitting at the table, reading the wizarding equivalent of Forbes Magazine. He put it away when the two walked in. “Well, that was a marathon if I’ve heard one. You two scared the House Elves.” That said, he picked up his coffee cup and drank the remainder.

It was all so strange. Just then a House Elf popped in with ears flat against its skull and eyes pointed down. It took only a second for her to break out into peals of laughter. Draco and Lucius laughed with her; it was something the Manor hadn’t witnessed in a century: laughter.

****  
They married a week later. Draco and Hermione welcomed their first child nine months later, and Lucius and Hermione welcomed their first daughter a year after that. Adrian was thrilled to have a big family. He spoiled his nieces and nephews much to the chagrin of their mother. 

They had a happy life, raising children, working and having as much sex as their children would allow.

Six years after they married, Hermione and her husbands were walking in Diagon Alley shopping for the Christmas holidays. It was cold and windy, but Hermione loved it. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a tall bloke with bright red hair; it sparked a memory, but it was hazy at best and she wondered where the recognition was from. Stopping, she turned and scanned the crowd looking for the man. She was pulled away a moment later by Draco.

Fred Weasley stood just inside the Quality Quidditch Supply Shop, watching as Hermione Granger paused. He was sure she had seen him and was looking for him. Fred smiled. If she’d seen him then the spell was weakening. They won’t have her for much longer, he thought, eager to get home to tell his brother that they might get their witch back.

Fin.


End file.
